I'm Not In Love With Him
by gschelt
Summary: Beginning set during "Saviors." Thirteen wants more from Foreman and Cameron is afraid of more from Chase. Two dissatisfied girlfriends and one ER nurse's renewed involvement in House's team. Cameron/Thirteen femslash.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note**: This is what was supposed to happen in the season 5 episode "Saviors", and for a minute there, when I was watching, I actually thought some Camteen could actually happen. I was extremely disappointed when Chase ended up proposing... It had to be fixed. I started writing this seconds after the episode was over. There's more to come here, absolutely, so hang tight. This is just setting the stage during the actual episode, you'll have your Camteen soon enough in future chapters. Yes... I said chapters! I, the serial one-shotter, am now doing chapters.  
_

* * *

Chase is in love with Cameron.  
Cameron is in love with Chase.  
But Cameron is also in love with House.  
And Cuddy is in love with House too.  
House is only in love with himself.  
Foreman is in love with Thirteen.  
And Thirteen is in love with Foreman.

Is there anything missing?

* * *

I felt like I was missing something when Taub walked out of the MRI control room. I stayed there, sluggish under the dim lighting and sighing. Taub's words kept running through my mind… how communication would most likely be lacking in a relationship with a man. I usually never compared things with Foreman to things with women, because that wouldn't be fair at all. I usually never wanted one of those emotionally talkative relationships either, but now…

I took a deep breath, a long drag of oxygen, and ran my fingers through my hair. Was I really feeling so lacking with Foreman that I wanted us to hold each other and talk about our hopes and fears? That wasn't me. That was everyone else.

But that could have just been the hard-bitten emotional cynic in me talking. I had to give it some weight and recognition, and wonder just how plausible it was.

Trying to coax myself into forgetting about it wasn't working. Impulsive as I naturally was, I should have known better than to try and rationalize my feelings. They were what they were, and there was no use pretending.

There was a layer of support and trust that was missing, and I simply wanted more.

* * *

"Are you in love with House?"

I couldn't believe my ears. Was Cuddy really needling me about long-buried feelings I once had for House? Did she have nothing better to do than pounce on groundless threats? It was unbelievable.

Actually, it was understandable. The issue of my feelings for House was pretty well known and had never been publicly resolved. That, plus the fact that I was being pretty mysterious about why I was suddenly involving myself with his team again. Not to mention, I was avoiding Chase. Sure, I suppose it looked pretty suspicious to Cuddy.

But if I were really interested in someone, there were much better ways of getting closer to them. I wouldn't be so immature as to just edge into their sights and hope for the best.

Or would I?

* * *

It seemed like Cameron was back in the game. The rest of the team and I sat, bemused, as she volleyed diagnoses off House without a hint of hesitation. I shook my head and smiled at the folder sitting in front of me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear; her ploy to get closer to House was obvious, and everyone knew it. Still, I couldn't help but be impressed. I had to admit it; she was good. She was _really_ good. Cameron served up ideas like a pro, with cool confidence and just a hint of a smile. Did I detect flirtatiousness? Probably. And was it just me, or was she pointedly ignoring the rest of us?

House decided to send Taub and I to run this next group of tests, wanting to see where Cameron went on her time off.

"Bet you she's not going to Chase's," I murmured in Taub's ear, grinning slyly. He rolled his eyes knowingly. As we rounded a corner, Cameron came up fast behind us, huffily on her way from House's office. She brushed past me roughly without so much as looking at me.

"Someone's in a hurry going nowhere," I commented dryly.

* * *

I may have been fully committed now, but I wasn't going to budge an inch and give myself away.

* * *

I walked into the conference room to find Foreman sitting at the table, alone, reading through some papers. He rubbed his eyes.

Dropping the lab results on the table, I crossed behind him and draped my arms over his shoulders. "Tired?" I purred.

"Yeah," he replied, his sore eyes glued to the papers in front of him. I waited for him to say more, but he didn't. That was the end of that conversation.

I didn't know why I was so disappointed.

* * *

So the truth came out. Half of it, anyway. I knew Chase was going to propose to me, and I didn't want him to. I wasn't ready. House seemed satisfied with that half of the explanation, and he limped away to leave me with my thoughts. The solution fit with my character, didn't it? Wasn't that just the right problem to be eating away at me? Reservations about Chase? No, it couldn't _possibly_ be that I also wanted someone else. And by someone else, meaning someone _else_ else. I counted myself lucky that House didn't press me further. I suppose he would never suspect me of the other reason behind my actions.

* * *

It was late and Foreman and I sat in his car, about to take off from the still, dark parking lot. Before he reached over to buckle his seatbelt, I cleared my throat calmly.

"Eric, let's talk."

* * *

Of course I was sad. Even with my ulterior motives and dishonest heart, there was no stopping the tears from springing to my eyes when Chase stood up and walked away. It was just who I am. He was a good boyfriend and it was over between us. It was over and it was my fault, my fault for being mysterious and selfish and not trusting him. Of course I was devastated. I had a heart.

But I wasn't running after him.

And still, wrong as it was, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my back. I now had guilt about hurting him, but the guilt I had about my feelings for someone else was lessened.

I sniffed, wiped my eyes on the back of my hand, and stood up. Besides, when you got right down to it, I just wasn't in love with him.

* * *

I walked back into Princeton-Plainsboro, minutes after leaving. I had told Foreman I would stay here a while longer after all, and that I would call a cab. He said his things would be gone by the time I got home. It was all worked out civilly. Maybe we were both too tired to yell and scream and make this a real breakup. Or maybe he saw it coming too.

Either way, I realized I really wasn't in love with him.

* * *

As I walked down the halls from the cafeteria, now perfectly composed, I was surprised to see Thirteen back so late at night. She had her coat on and her bag in hand, looking like she had when she had left just a little while ago. I tried to look like I didn't care.

* * *

I crossed paths with Cameron in the halls. She gave me an odd, searching look as I walked by. But after a few minutes I was back in the conference room, my coat and bag thrown on the table, looking for some files to go over, and the strange moment in the hallway was forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note**: Sorry for taking so long to update, I had a huge writer's block with this chapter. I know it's not very exciting, but... 2 more are coming, and things will definitely pick up. 4 chapters, I think that's the story length I've settled on... Anyways, thanks for being patient and do me a favor by continuing to do so! Thanks, and don't be shy with reviews. :)  
_

* * *

"Well, well, well."

There was a silence all around the table as House limped in, grinning slyly, and dumped his backpack on the floor. No one acknowledged his entrance; we all sat patiently and waited for him to elaborate further.

"Looks like you spread it to my team, Cameron."

I looked up from my notepad in confusion. "What do you mean?" I didn't have anything contagious that I could pass on to the others. No cold, no flu, _certainly_ no sexually transmitted-

"Romantic unrest," he interrupted my thoughts, waggling his eyebrows.

The silence around the table lengthened; Taub and I looking around curiously, Foreman glaring determinedly at the tabletop, and Thirteen… Thirteen leaning on her elbow, looking bored. Blank. Unreadable. Looking anywhere but in Foreman's direction.

The implications of House's words slowly drifted down on me like a heavy curtain. I looked back up at his wicked grin, covertly stole a glance at Thirteen, then dropped my gaze to my lap, trying to look indifferent. My insides, however, began to squirm like a knot of snakes. Had they broken up? No, it couldn't be. What if they did? What did that mean? Did I dare hope?

The differential was completely lost on me as I sat in my seat, distracted by my thoughts.

_Focus. Concentrate. Don't get carried away._

"…the okay from Cuddy, and Cameron go give him the MRI."

I snapped my head back up to the discussion, looking like a deer in the headlights. "Huhm?"

House smirked as he and his other team members began to disperse. "Thirteen, you tag along and help Runaway Bride here run the machine."

* * *

So now it was out in the open.

Sure, House hadn't _directly_ gloated about Foreman and I splitting, but it was pretty obvious who he meant. I was annoyed by it, but not so much as I would be if I was really hurt by this breakup. More like exasperated, eye-roll-worthy. They would find out sooner or later, why be bothered that it was on the sooner side?

Wait.

I was so blinded by the spotlight House had shone on my own breakup that I didn't even realize he was also uncovering another. Chase and Cameron… it didn't even hit me until I was following Cameron down the halls to the MRI room. She walked ahead of me, saying nothing, fidgeting as she walked. She looked tense, on edge.

For some reason, I found myself surprised by this. I thought Chase and Cameron were perfect for each other. They were both nice, pretty, boring people, and besides; Cameron didn't seem to me the type of girl who could thrive single. I thought she looked like the type who needed to have a boyfriend. The type who couldn't stand coming home to an empty apartment.

Affectionate, dedicated, loyal… clingy? Was it fair that I was already packing her into that category? She sure _seemed_ like the type, alright.

It wasn't really my place to judge without really knowing, though, and I guess I didn't. Know, that is. Hell, I had never dated her.

* * *

"So who dumped who?"

Caught off guard, I immediately paled and turned to Thirteen in surprise, barely trusting my ears to have heard her right. "Excuse me?"

She stared innocently down at the pen in her hand and clicked it a few times. "You know, you and Chase splitting up. Who pulled the plug?"

"I, uh…" I stammered, turning my head away from her to search for words to ask why she didn't think it could have been mutual. Before I could, though, I blurted out, "He did."

"Oh," she said simply, "That sucks," and turned back to the monitor.

"Well," I began curiously after a pause, "who was it with you and Foreman?"

"It was me," she said coolly, shrugging either as if it were no big deal or as if she really didn't want to talk about it.

"Hm," I acknowledged, my mind racing hazily. If she was the one who broke it off, that meant she didn't want him. She was single because she wanted to be single. _She's not in love with him…  
_

_

* * *

  
_

Chase was the one who broke up with her. That meant she was probably heartbroken and still in love with him; girl like that who gets dumped usually is. Fuck impartial judgment, I was being realistic here. No, damaged goods like that couldn't do a rebound.

Wait, did that thought really just cross my mind?

* * *

I clicked across the glistening black pavement of the parking lot in my heels, heading for my car. It had been a long day; a _really_ long day, switching between dodging and confirming rumors about Chase's and my breakup from every inquisitor; and I was ready to go home and unwind.

It was strange to think about going back to an apartment with no rolls of socks in my underwear drawer; no paperback suspense novels lying open facedown on the coffee table; no allergy tablets sitting on the bathroom sink, vanilla soymilk in the refrigerator, or lamps turned on in every room. No Chase.

It was easier than I thought it would be to get used to living alone again, though. I felt that I had so much more space to rattle around, not having to brush up against another body just going from the bedroom to the shower. Still, it was taking some getting used to again.

"Hey, Cameron!"

I looked up from opening the driver's side door and saw Thirteen jogging across the dark, starlit parking lot towards me.

"What's up?" I asked with some surprise, tossing my purse into the backseat. _What does she want? Shit, calm down, she's not about to ask you out, she's just gonna ask you for a ride or someth-_

"Do you think you could give me a ride home?"

Her face twisted sheepishly as she looked at me in anticipation. "I mean," she continued, "usually I'd ride back with Foreman, but well…" She smiled apologetically, a corner of her mouth quirking skywards ever so slightly.

_Wait. You guys split a few days ago, what have you been doing for a ride since then? Why me? Why now? Why-_

"Sure," I said rather quickly, with a slightly nervous grin that may or may not have revealed the knot of nerves writhing in my gut. "It's no problem."

"Thanks." Thirteen flashed me a slow smile and crossed over to the passenger's side door. I pretended to fidget with my keys as I stood, facing away from her, trying to get my breathing under control. Suddenly I wasn't so tired anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note**: Sorry it took so long to update! I've been extremely busy, but now I'm on summer break so hopefully I'll be able to finish the last chapter soon. Don't be stingy with those reviews! :)  
_

* * *

"So," I began, expelling a deep breath and putting the keys in the ignition. "Where to?"

"Drive up by 22nd Street," Thirteen directed calmly, pointing a delicate finger to her right, "I'll tell you where to turn."

We slowly rolled out of the parking lot, the headlights painting yellow beams on the glistening pavement. There was silence as we drove along the dark street, passing streetlights illuminating Thirteen's face on and off.

"Cameron," she said after a minute or so. "I'm sorry about before, in the MRI room. It wasn't my place to pry."

I turned to her in the passenger's seat, as she looked down at the cup holders and fidgeted. "It's okay," I replied. It really was okay; I didn't want her to feel too bad about it. She nodded and looked out the window thoughtfully, seeming to feel more at ease.

We sat at a red light at 19th street. Thirteen drummed her fingers on the armrest and I concentrated my breathing, a mixed-up clash of trying to keep this from being a big deal and trying to work up the nerve to make this a big deal. After ten seconds, I opened my mouth and said,

"Um, what time is it?"

Thirteen leaned forward (closer to me) a bit to see the analog clock on the dashboard. "Nine thirty-six," she said smoothly, the neon glow tingeing her lips a faint blue-green.

"It's not that late," I began nonchalantly. "Do you want to get a drink or something?"

_Or something_. I tried not to look at her, tried to keep my eyes on the road and look ever so slightly disinterested. _You know, 'cause it's just drinks. No big deal._

I waited about a second and glanced at Thirteen. She caught my eyes and smiled; a slow, puzzling sort of smile that I couldn't quite read.

"Sure," she replied, nodding. "That's fine with me."

"Alright," I said lightly. The light turned green, and at the next corner I turned towards downtown.

"You know," Thirteen began after a minute or so, leaning towards me in her seat, "I know a good bar. It's on 118, a few blocks away from the park. Are you down?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Okay."

We got there, parked, and got out of the car. We walked down the wet sidewalk in silence, her with her hands in her coat pockets and I putting my keys in my purse. But once we got to the door, once I saw the throng of women, once I looked around for a moment…

"Wait a second," I said, gulping and freezing in my tracks. Thirteen automatically put a hand on my arm. "This is…"

"What's the problem?" she said, grinning comfortably. Her eyes and teeth sparkled under the glow of the streetlights and her voice echoed against the discordant commotion of voices and music pulsing from inside.

I swallowed again, looking around. A gay bar. She had brought me to a gay bar, probably one of her stomping grounds. One of the places where she bought drinks for girls and brought them home. And now I was… one of those girls? Was that what it meant? What did she mean by bringing me here? A _date?_ My imagination was running away with me, making my head spin and causing my cheeks to flush. It would only get worse once we got inside.

Sensing my unease, Thirteen smiled again and pulled on my sleeve. "Come on, don't worry about it."

"I don't know…"

"Trust me," she said matter-of-factly, taking my hand. "I'll take care of you." And when she winked, my stomach churned. I followed her in.

* * *

Cameron took a sip and put her glass down, sloshing just a bit. She'd only had two… or was it three? Hard to say for sure, I had my own to keep track of. She certainly wasn't drunk: plastered, hammered, shit-faced, none of the above. Just buzzed, I'd have to say. I knew when a girl was gone; I ought to, after all the times I'd gotten girls (and myself) drunk, high, low, up, down, you name it. No, Cameron was just buzzed. Maybe even sober enough to drive. Maybe.

Scratch that. She picked up her drink again and downed the rest of it in a few gulps. I smirked at her as she put it down and licked her lips, darting her tongue along her lips almost curiously as she distractedly brought a finger to them.

"I thought I had you figured out," I said loudly, half laughing, over the deafening dull throb of the music.

"How so?" she asked, smiling and raising her eyebrows.

I cocked my head thoughtfully, playfully, and gestured to her empty glass with an inclination of my head. "The tequila," I said, smiling slowly. "Had you pegged as a bloody mary kind of girl, doctor."

Cameron tilted back in her chair. "I guess you pegged wrong, Dr. Thirteen." She giggled, and I couldn't help joining in. She was just too cute.

"So Thirteen, tell me," Cameron said a bit more clearly, leaning forward. "Why did you bring me here?" Her eyes had lost some of that nervousness that they held when we arrived. She still looked somewhat jumpy, though. As though she was springing this question on me as a release to her bursting nerves.

I looked away and took a long drink from my own glass. "You're the one who drove," I said nonchalantly. "You brought _me_ here."

"This place was your idea," Cameron said quickly, leaning closer with a scrutinizing look. "And you asked me for a ride, I mean-"

"A ride, not drinks," I interrupted, trying to keep a smile from spreading across my lips. "That part was all you, remember?"

She looked down and ran a finger along the rim of her glass. "Yeah, I remember."

There was a pause. I curiously watched her toying with the condensation sweating through her glass, not looking at me. Then I leaned in closer to her.

"Do you feel threatened?" I whispered. Cameron looked up into my eyes, my face only a few inches from hers. It was the only way to be heard in here.

"No," she said quietly, firmly. I nodded, still observing her. After a moment she wet her lips and looked at me.

"Dance with me?"

"Sure," I said hoarsely.

* * *

_Purple to blue to green to yellow to orange to deep, deep red. Red like her lips, I know they're there somewhere but all of her I can see is strands of hair tickling my shoulders. I can feel much more than see, though; sight is a sense that is slowly drifting and blurring, from all the lights and the tide of bodies. Even sound is growing smaller, for the music is blending with the sound/sensation of my pulse and hers, my breath and hers. The feeling of it is mixing in my brain. The feeling of the alcohol sliding through my veins, the feeling of her fingers sliding along my thigh, the feeling of my stomach sliding against hers, back and forth and back and forth and back… It all bleeds together. Our bodies bleed together into one streak of ink, and then… Well, then I don't know what._

* * *

Cameron and I stumbled out onto the sidewalk for a much-needed breather, smiling breathlessly.

"God," she panted, leaning against the brick wall. "I need this air."

"Yeah," I said simply, contentedly, stretching my arms above my head. We stood there on the empty street for a minute or so, cooling off. The muffled thud of the music continued inside, but it was peaceful enough out here.

Before I knew what was happening, I was moving closer to Cameron. I took a step or two, and as I moved in she smiled, bit her lip, and came off the wall to close the gap.

Fusion.

Our lips met wetly, sloppily, crushing together. We were drunk. But still, it was deliciously, deliriously dynamic. She moved against me, tongue working against mine and hips grinding against mine. Push, pull, plunge. It was amazing, kissing her. I didn't know how much I'd wanted to until now, as I pushed a hand through her hair and took a lock in my fingers, twirling it distractedly.

I hadn't known, hadn't been able to put a finger on what I was doing with her the rest of the evening, before. Why I deliberately found myself without a way home, why I brought her here. Fooling around? A game? I didn't know. I still didn't know what I was doing, but it didn't matter. This was what I wanted.

"Wait." Cameron pulled away from me, her hand still on my cheek, and looked at her feet. Her fingers began to tremble on my skin and she pulled her hand back to her side. I took a step back and she ran her hand through her hair, troubled, and said, "I don't know."

"What?" I said, getting my mouth to work at speaking again.

"I don't know," she said distractedly. "I don't know, I can't… I can't do this."

"Allison," I exclaimed, moving forward, frustrated, not understanding. She flinched at the sound of her first name. "What's your problem?" I continued.

"I don't know!" she repeated, almost shouting, passing a hand in front of her face.

"You know, I get it," I said angrily. "You're not used to all this, me being a girl and everything. I get your issues there. But come on, I'm not stupid. I know you like me." I took a step back and threw my hands wide. My voice seemed too loud, too likely to echo down the deserted street. I felt terribly self-conscious, but I kept going. "The way you jumped back on board House's team, was that it? It was me, wasn't it? And you asking me out tonight. That's what you were doing, and I know it. It's _okay_. So what is it?"

Cameron turned her head away, leaning back against the brick wall now, tears shining in her eyes. "I don't know," she said again, shaking her head. She straightened up and went in her purse, rummaging hastily.

"Here," she mumbled, and pushed a twenty dollar bill at me. "That's for cab fare. I'm- I'm sorry. I have to get home, I'll see you around sometime."

Cameron buttoned the clasp on her purse and turned, walking away as quickly as possible. I stood there, my eyes wild, flabbergasted, in front of the club, and watched her turn a corner to call her own cab somewhere where she didn't have to be near me.


End file.
